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By: Norma Bustamante, Perspective
When prophets of disaster predicted the imminent death of books, the Guadalajara International Book Fair proved otherwise. This cultural event—unique in Latin America—concluded yesterday, Sunday, demonstrating that, nearly forty years after its founding, the culture of books and everything surrounding them continues to thrive.
The debate over the future of books has raged for decades, yet books remain. What has emerged in this digital revolution is a system of instantaneous communication—a constant “now” that has transformed all forms of interaction. In terms of cultural transmission, enormous opportunities for growth have arisen.
Digitalization introduces a new model of temporality into the modern literary system. While it represents uncharted terrain for the literary world, it offers greater dissemination and growth, particularly for literature.
Books endure—along with publishers and bookstores. In 1998, Editorial Paidós published Geoffrey Nunberg’s The Future of the Book, with an epilogue by Umberto Eco and contributions from 55 authors, most predicting the end of printed books. Nearly three decades later, it has not happened. The Guadalajara International Book Fair stands as proof.
The Fair began in 1987 amid skepticism from publishers and booksellers, who never imagined its future reach. From the start, Mexican and international publishers united, creating a publishing market unprecedented in scale. It was there I met Mario Benedetti at a press conference. I asked him what I believed was the most original question anyone had ever posed: Why, in his short novel The Truce, did Laura Avellaneda have to die—thirty years younger than Martín Santomé—thus ending their romance? Benedetti responded with unexpected arrogance, saying he had been asked that question hundreds of times and did not want Laura to witness Martín’s old age and decline. Period.
At another FIL, I met José Saramago, who was entirely different—humble and kind. I waited over two hours to take a photo with him, standing in a line of about a hundred women. In the picture, he looks at me as if I were the only woman in his life, and I look radiant. In truth, every woman in that line likely has a photo where Saramago makes her feel uniquely seen, a literary rock star treating each of us as special.
I have missed attending the Guadalajara Book Fair for several years, and I deeply regretted it this time. I would have met Leonardo Padura, the Cuban writer recently honored with another honorary degree. I could read his The Man Who Loved Dogs three times over. He writes and lives in Cuba, and I suspect I will have to go there to meet him in person.
Joan Manuel Serrat also received an honorary distinction at the Fair. I met him years ago in Mexicali, when Ángel Norzagaray, then director of culture, brought him for “International October.” I have a photo with him—simple, precise, perfectly Catalan.
The Guadalajara International Book Fair is more than a book exhibition; it is a world of magic. It feels like stepping into another dimension, where different languages are spoken and diverse people are encountered. The book is the centerpiece, the meeting point between the physical human and the human mind. Digital media complements it, introducing new modes of cultural production. Yet the book remains at the heart of the celebration—celebrating culture, existence, and the true human being—and will continue to do so for many years. That old friend, the book, is here, and its final word has yet to be spoken.
viveleyendo.normabustamante.@gmail.com
